Epilogue for an Exile - Destiny
by DavestWriterDavidson
Summary: On the poisoned world of Malachor V, Darth Traya awaits the arrival of the Exile, Ramsi Tennet. It is here that destiny will be decided, and either the apprentice will succeed the master or the master shall destroy the apprentice- destiny has arrived. This is also the finale of the Epilogue for an Exile series.


_Destiny_

Kreia's Story

_**Editor's Note: This is the last in a series of epilogues following the main characters set two years after the events of Knights of the Old Republic II. The order in which they should be read are Visas, Atton, Brianna, Mira, and Kreia, but feel free to peruse them at your own leisure. Safe travels, and good luck.**_

_**Editor's Note II: This is set during the finale of KOTOR II.**_

_**Editor's Note III: There's a subtle nod to the Onderonian Storyline glitch, which I stumbled upon for the first time this past year (2019), enjoy.**_

The storms of Malachor V raged fiercely, striking without rhyme, reason, or warning on to the poisoned surface of the dead world. So violent were its actions that it seemed as if the very machinations of weather itself were trying to finish the job and destroy the planet for good. It was not the doings of the Force, however. For this world, this sector, is where the Force came to die.

Darth Traya sat on her knees in the center of the Trayus Core, centering herself in its energies in preparation for the final confrontation to come. As much as she detested the Force, she had conquered it, and now subjugated it to _her _will. Here, on Malachor, it would bend to her and destroy the Exile once and for all.

When it was finished, she would prepare herself for the journey to the Unknown Regions, where she could find and eliminate the Sith Remnant that lay dormant in its multitude of hidden systems.

Darth Nihilus, before he'd outlived his usefulness, had mapped out a significant portion of the Regions and pinpointed several key areas where the Sith Empire would be hiding. With both the Sith and the Jedi gone, there would be nothing to stop the total annihilation of the Force at her hand.

Of course, it should have been done by the Exile, but the fool was still too attached to the Jedi's decrepit outlook. He was a failure in all that he had done and, now, he was on his way to destroy her and exact revenge for her betrayal. Yet she would not fall, not today, for there would always be a Darth Traya- one who held the knowledge of betrayal; one who had been betrayed at her heart, and would therefore betray in turn.

Tragic, though it was. The Exile had come so close to following in the path she had laid out for him, and he had turned away from it in favour of some misguided loyalty to his friends. They, too, would be destroyed, and when the Exile was gasping for air and begging for mercy she would reveal that it was he who had lead them to their deaths, cutting short both their lives and their potential. As a last, parting gift in retribution for his betrayal towards her, she would break the spirit of the Miraluka and ensure the enslavement of the one whom he held too close to his heart.

The mere thought filled Darth Traya with a sick, twisted pride.

Outside, she felt the _Ebon Hawk _dragged down to the surface by the tectonic storms. Its passengers surged with fear, and the murderous Atton Rand's cocky façade faded into the background as he recognized the futility of fighting against Malachor. How fitting that this world, where he killed the only woman he ever loved, would be his grave. Nobody escaped Malachor V alive, not even the fool who the Force so grievously and misguidedly looked after.

The freighter crashed into the mountains, breaking apart on impact and shuttering its fate as it came to a stop between a chasm- throwing its crew in scattered directions across Malachor's surface. If they were not dead on impact, she would personally see each one executed before her. The Exile, whether he lived or died, would be an inspiration to them that would allow their spirits to endure no matter what she or the unforgiving graveyard did to them- death would be the only solution in the end.

From inside the ship, she felt the Exile stirring, the Force willing his body back to life. Ironic that its attempts to save him from death would only lead to a far more painful end. The Force was a cruel beast, and Darth Traya would ensure that her last gift to the Exile would be her promise that he would be the last puppet of the Force.

Win or lose, destiny had arrived.

* * *

Darth Sion had let go of his link to mortality, and his soul passed on to the place it had been long delayed from.

Out of the shadows, at first only a silhouette marked by the orange glow of the Arkanian Blinders, stepped the Exile. His shoulders sagged, and his body wore the marks of combat, but still he continued trudging forward, his modified Mandalorian armour acting against him with each step.

"At last you have arrived. Is Malachor as you remember it?"

The Exile removed his mask, revealing him to still be practically all but untouched by the lures of the Dark Side, even in this desolate place.

"Malachor has not changed," His voice resonating with a courage that stood on two very wobbly legs, "Only you have."

Darth Traya regarded him in mild amusement.

"Indeed, perhaps it is merely your perceptions of me that have changed. It is strange that you believe that Malachor has not- but it has always been timeless to you, this place, and words have always been inadequate for the horrors that took place here."

Betraying his calm exterior, he lashed out at her.

"You were manipulating me all along!"

"Yes, always," She replied, her voice as steady as a knife's edge, "From the moment you awoke, I have used you so that you might become strong, stronger than I."

The Exile took a step up the ramp, his grip tightening around the solid silver hilt in his hand.

"I used your death to deceive the Sith, to make them believe they had won so that they would turn on each other."

She watched the realization process behind his blue-steel eyes.

"So you used me to get revenge on Sion and the others."

Now, it was Traya's turn to betray her tranquil façade.

"I used you to keep the Lords of the Sith from condemning the galaxy to death with their power unchecked. I used you to lure them to Telos where they could, at last, be confronted and destroyed. I used you to reveal Atris' corruption, so that her teachings could be ended before they began," She paused for a breath, returning to her inner peace so the dagger could twist in his heart, "I used you to gather the last of the Jedi so they could be destroyed. And I used you to make those who wounded me reveal themselves, so they could be killed by the Republic."

If her trick had worked, the Exile refused to show it.

"Why did you do this, Kreia?"

"It is said the Force has a will, that it has a destiny for us all. I wield it just as you do, just as Revan did, but it uses us all, and _that _is abhorrent to me. I hate that it seems to have a will, that it would control us to achieve some measure of balance whilst countless lives are lost. But in you, Exile, I see the potential for the Force to die, for you have turned away from its will. And that is what pleases me."

A smile crept across her lips, the act seeming to evoke a small recoil from him.

"You are beautiful to me, Exile. A dead spot in the Force, an emptiness in which its will might be denied."

"But why me, Kreia?" He asked, as if he expected this to be part of some larger plot. The Force and the Jedi truly had poisoned his mind beyond recovery if he still believed in that possibility. It was time to crush those beliefs.

"Perhaps you are expecting some surprise? For me to reveal a secret that has always eluded you, something that would change your perspective of events and shatter you to your core. There is no great revelation, no great secret, only you."

"Surely there were other Jedi you could have chosen."

_Arrogance, something I could never stomp out of him. Now I see it always rose from the teachings of the Jedi Order._

"No, there were not. In times past and in times future, there are Jedi who will stop listening to the Force, those that will try to forget it. Yet they will maintain unconscious ties. Then there are those, as in the past just as I, who have had the Force _ripped _from them. But no Jedi ever made the choice you did, to sever ties so completely, so utterly, that it leaves a wound in the Force. It was a mistake to try and make you feel again, I see that now, for there is no truth in the Force. But there is truth in _you_, Exile, and that is why I chose you."

For a time, they stood in silence, gazing at each other as the Exile swallowed the truth that she had given to him. However, he did not fight it, but accepted it for what it was: The truth. Finally, he spoke up.

"What happens now?"

The answer that follow surprised Traya.

"The apprentice must kill the master. If you do not, I shall kill you. If I do not, then everything you have fought for and achieved will be as nothing, as empty, and as violent, as Malachor itself."

She'd been prepared to kill him and finish her task to destroy the remnants of the Sith Empire herself, but somewhere, in the vast nexus of energies that was the Trayus Core, she heard the whispers of possibility.

The Exile _could_ triumph here and, if she could impart her teachings to him just one last time, he could take them to heart and her task would be completed.

However, as tempting as it was to let him win and sever the mortal coils the Force held over her, it could not be this way. The Exile would triumph, or die trying.

Darth Traya would not make it easy for him.

He fastened the Arkanian Blinders onto his face.

She ignited her crimson blade.

A beam of cerulean light erupted from his hilt.

"Then let us end this, my master."

Win or lose, destiny was here.

* * *

At last, the Exile had gained the upper hand, and Darth Traya knelt before him, ready to be struck down.

Yet, he halted, holding her at his blade's length.

"Yield, Kreia," He said breathlessly, "You need not die."

Traya was aghast at his offer and leapt to her feet like a bolt of lightning.

"If you do not kill me, I shall end you, Exile. Strike me down, _now_, and end this." She encouraged him.

He took a step back, lowering his weapon.

_No!_

"This is already over, I've beaten you. Your life is yours, Kreia, you can teach me nothing more."

Springing her trap in a last ditch effort, Darth Traya surrounded the Exile with three violet lightsabers, calling them forth from the pillars surrounding the center of the Trayus Core, and aimed them at him as they hummed with powerful energy and deadly promises.

"You will _not _show me mercy," She hissed, "I will see you break before then."

They attacked simultaneously, slicing and slashing at him and striking score after score. He would be beaten, broken, killed- an utter failure to her teachings, and she could take no pleasure in his death, but breaking him would call back to her days as head of the Sith Triumvirate, and she would enjoy that very much.

_Beware, Exile, beware, for destiny is here._

* * *

Against all odds, he had fought back… And he had _won_.

Her weapons lay scattered in broken pieces, and she lay before him in her death throes. There was no denying it, no fighting it, and she would do neither.

Instead, she gazed up at him, her apprentice, in all the glory that he carried with him. As the power of pure dark side energies flowed around her, she saw a million potential futures for him, and each one was greater than the last. Her teachings would not be cast away, not for many years to come.

The apprentice had succeeded the master in all of the right ways.

Whatever he did from here would do honour to her memory and her legacy.

"At last, it is done…" She choked, "You are greater than any I have ever trained. By killing me here, you have rewarded me more than you could possibly know."

Tossing his mask away, Traya watched it lazily hop and skid across the platform before sliding into the abyss of Malachor's poisoned and corrupted heart, the Exile knelt down next to her.

"You left me no choice, Kreia."

"No, no," She coughed hard, black blood spat into her hand, "Many choices there were but," She gifted him a small smile, "You made the right ones, Ramsi."

"What happens now?" He asked.

_Ah, even once surpassed, the child still seeks the guidance of the parent._

That comforted what little humanity was left in her.

"It is your choice. I would have hoped you'd follow Revan's path, but you and Revan are… Different, and your path is your own. You may take one of the ships that orbit Malachor and depart this place, or you may stay here, waiting for others who have been touched by the Force, who will come in time. Or, you may return to your exile, where your actions will no longer affect others."

With her hand, she took his and pulled him close.

"There is no dishonour in any of these choices, I only ask that you make your choice without regret."

He wrapped his around hers, holding it tight, as if attempting to will her to stay with him against the inevitability of death.

"What will happen to my friends?"

_Perhaps our link maintains itself, if he can feel what I see._

She leaned her head back against the cold stone, resting it there as she gathered her strength.

"Many things do I gaze here from the heart of Malachor. This place…. Channels such energies. If it truly matters to you, at this last moment, I shall look into the future, and tell you of what I see."

Closing her eyes, she searched the vast ocean and found the strings that the Force held. All around Ramsi Tennet, they wove themselves into a web which he may have been free of, but was still bound by. She followed each strand, isolated it, and discovered the true path the Force had for each.

"What of Mira, and Canderous?"

"She will stop hunting life, and instead, live it. She was not born to be a predator, despite her true father and the life she led within the shadow of Nar Shaddaa. She will miss you and think of you often. You, who awakened her, to what life is. She will live... but only for a time. Her death will occur in many years' time on a forgotten planet, saving the lives of others. But it will be her choice, and she will have no regrets."

Like a spider, she crawled along the web of the Force until she found the rope which followed the Mandalorian warrior.

"Many battles does that one have left in him... as Revan intended. A general needs an army, as he needs those he trusts. And Canderous is a loyal beast, no matter how much he is broken upon Revan's will. But you know this."

"What of Visas?"

_Ah, his beloved Miraluka, blind to the galaxy even when her path has always been so clearly set. _

"The blinded one's heart has now been put to rest - vengeance no longer clouds her sight, and she shall be stronger for it. She will leave her memories of Katarr in the wreckage of the past and, instead, turn her eyes to the future that you have put before her. Her life has been changed by your meeting, in ways that may not be felt for decades to come, but rest assured her time with you and what you create together will be time well spent."

"Atton?"

She could've plucked the answer like fruit from a tree.

"Atton is, as always, the fool," They shared a quiet laugh, "And the Force watches out for ones such as him, I feel. As it does for the old such as I."

"What of Brianna?"

Upon finding the path, Traya hesitated before answering, for it was shrouded in mystery- arcing off into two possible directions.

"The Handmaiden's future is masked in the mists of time, but I feel it will become clear very soon. The fog shall lift, but be wary, one wrong move and she will fall from the path of the light and warp herself into a huntress that would rival the galaxy's most dangerous killers. If she does not… Well, you'll discover that, in time, my apprentice."

Ramsi paused to ponder her words, before moving on to yet more questions.

However, in this moment, time seemed to have no meaning beyond the Core. Traya briefly hypothesized testing the theory, but it was of no value to her. She would answer Ramsi's questions until he was satisfied, and then she would die.

"What of the worlds I visited, Kreia?"

"Ah, the futures of planets are hard to predict, my apprentice, but I believe I can part the mists just long enough to see…"

Images flashed between their minds as she swam through the Force.

_Green, lush, resolute._

"_Dantooine shall survive. The community you saved shall be the foundation upon which Dantooine shall be habitable again. They shall drive back the raiders, the Mandalorians, and all that strike at the Outer Rim. The Republic shall again establish their presence there, and shield it with its forces... And Dantooine shall heal, be safe, and its skies free. The ruins of the academy shall remain."_

_Green, brown, grey, black, efficiency._

"_Telos shall recover, and Czerka shall make it a place for machines and sciences, it will run smooth and cold like a machine. But it shall not forget the time that Saul Karath orbited it and brought fire to it. It shall learn to defend itself against war, and it shall never again be caught defenseless."_

_Red, barren, darkness, revenge._

"_Korriban shall be as it always was. A graveyard for the darkest of the Sith Lords, still whispering within their tombs. It shall always be a source of evil, spawning threats throughout the millennia. It, like Malachor, brushes the edges of the empire that waits in the dark. And like Malachor, the Sith have forgotten it... for a time. They will remember. Revan knew this."_

_Tan, gold, bursting fireworks, pride._

"_The day of the Onderonian Uprising & Massacre shall be a day long remembered, when the Jedi Exile arrived and worked alongside General Vaklu, only to betray him and his supporters at the very end, allowing every dissident to be purged and all opposing voices to be silenced. Yet, even with the bloodshed, it will be a moment celebrated and re-told a thousand times over. Queen Talia shall have a long reign, and much good will come of it. She will, as she has, rule wisely and well. Onderon shall remain in the Republic, and the world shall prosper, though its people shall, over time, lose their customs in the ocean of the Republic and become the people of Onderon no longer."_

_Cold, steel, greed, light, cultivation, hope._

"_Nar Shaddaa shall persist as it always has, but there will be a heart to the world where there was nothing before. Where once the lost and disposed were trapped there, now they will struggle and grow. From despair shall come hope."_

He asked further questions, of the Republic, the galaxy, the Mandalorians, of Atris, and Darth Traya answered each one with patience.

Finally, the end came.

Traya gasped for air, choking, her organs finally succumbing to their wounds. Ramsi prepared to step back, but she pulled him close to whisper in his ear.

"I would have killed the galaxy to preserve you. I would have let the galaxy die. You are more rare than you know; and what you have taught yourself must not be allowed to die. You are not a Jedi, not truly, and it is for that that I love you. The small one, the astromech, who waits for you outside this place, I sense it has one last journey for you. You must go where Revan did, into the Unknown Regions, where the Sith, the _true _Sith, lie in wait, waiting in the dark for the war to come. Korriban, like Malachor, sits on the fringes of the ancient Sith Empire which waits to strike. Revan knew this, he knew that Malachor paved the way for Korriban, that the teachings here would further the spread of the Sith. That they had to be stopped while there was still time. Revan knew the true fight was beyond the Outer Rim, and he has gone to fight it, in his own way. Like you, he knew he had to leave all that he loved behind to accomplish his goal, no matter how deeply he cared for them. He left them here because of the one truth in the Jedi Code, that both would be doomed if he carried them into the dark places he now walks. You must do the same, whether it is now or years removed, but you know it as well as I do, Ramsi Tennet, that you must go and do battle at the end of all things."

Even as the world succumbed to the darkness, she could see the understanding on his face.

He had known, he had always known, that his destiny lay elsewhere.

Hers lay here, and it came fast approaching.

"Rest now, Kreia, your time in this place is over."

Destiny had arrived.


End file.
